• So here it is, goes the cry; the assault on the system so many have dreamed of. Cable's Attack on Capitalism, scream the Mail and Telegraph. But the fact that he thinks the financial collapse might mean we need a bit more regulation hardly makes him Che Guevara. In Liverpool his schedule included a platform sponsored by the City on "Financial Services: the next driver for growth", and another sponsored by the City on "Financial Services – Helping the UK economy grow". He also spoke on a platform paid for by Barclays on "Budget cuts and public services". Red Vince popped up at events paid for by the manufacturing sector and the banks. And he was guest of honour at the "Wealth creating industries" reception, for which we thank our dear friends at BAE Systems. So Class War won't be claiming him just yet.

• Meanwhile, at the Treasury axeman Danny Alexander is gradually coming to terms with the cruel news that deputy PM Clegg has taken to likening him to Beaker, the lovable but ginger Muppet. Worse, he finds that David Laws, his ousted predecessor in the axeman's hood, refuses to leave the stage. Laws is battling to clear his name on expenses charges, and filling in time before he rejoins the cabinet by writing an instant insider's account of Lib Dem negotiations with the Cameroons who are now their lords and masters. It's called 22 Days in May, the length of his ministerial career.

• Everyone's at it, spilling the beans; earning a few cents. So why shouldn't Tony Blair's former henchman Jonathan Powell do the same? How did Tony keep the reins for so long is the question we would ask. And perhaps we'll find out in Powell's book, described on our launch invitation yesterday as The New Machiavelli: How to wield power in modern Britain. But perhaps we won't. Our mistake, say the launch organisers an hour later. "Please note the book title is: 'The New Machiavelli: How to wield power in the modern world', not 'Britain'." Still, Machiavellian Tony did both.

• The Con-Dem squeeze is on and, as we know, the public sector will bear the brunt. No more jobs for cronies. No more fat cat wages. Unless, of course, you curry favour with Boris Johnson and his senior bods at City Hall, where the adrenaline is high and so are the salaries. The mayor has been efficiently pruning the headcount at the Greater London Authority. Pen-pushers have gone. Those who remain make do with pencils. But the top tier is doing better than ever. Those who know say that the number of posts created on salaries in excess of £100,000 appears to be mushrooming. Just recently there was a fat cat post for a digital honcho to run one of the mayor's pet projects. A £100,000 post was created just the other day, a new head of human resources. The chief exec, meanwhile, he is on more than £200,000. Crisis? What crisis? Happy days.

• And as the race to find a new Labour leader comes to a welcome close, the battle for places in the shadow cabinet is getting white hot. Favours are being called in throughout Westminster. The begging and pleading is pitiful. The phone rings. It's our friend, the MP David Winnick. "I'm thinking of forming a little club for MPs who are not trying to get into the shadow cabinet," he tells us. It will hold its meetings in a phone box close to St Stephen's Green.

• Finally, we have more on the tests applied by border controllers at Heathrow to establish the Britishness of those who claim it as they seek to re-enter the country. Yesterday's example was of a man who apparently proved his bona fides by saying that Dad's Army made him laugh. And this reminded reader Rod Humphries of the tale in John Fisher's biography of Tony Hancock. It involved a passenger who arrived at Heathrow from Geneva, having mislaid his passport. "Where do you live, sir?" the immigration officer asked him. "Cheam," was his reply. "And what does the name Hancock mean to you," said the inquisitor. "But that's East Cheam," countered the traveller. "Go through," the official said. "No one who knows that could be anything but British."